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I can’t let this happen again. I won’t be able to survive it.
“You guys are being loud as fuck. You know that, right?” Dominic smirks. “It’s like you wanted me to find you.”
He’s got a black eye, and it looks a little like he’s favoring one leg. If he’s in pain, though, it’s taking a backseat to his smug excitement.
“Maybe we did want you to find us,” Ryland says evenly. He’s still as a statue, and his voice is so calm it’s almost hard to believe it’s coming out of a real person. It’s also impossible to tell if he’s lying or not. “Maybe we wanted to have a little chat with you. Where’s Marcus?”
Dominic’s brows twitch, pulling together for a second before relaxing. “How the fuck should I know? Last I saw him, he was running away from the car crash with her.”
He jerks his chin toward me, although he doesn’t take his gaze off Ryland. I know the only reason he hasn’t fired yet is because he’s not sure he’ll be able to take Ryland out without getting a bullet through the face first.
Ryland doesn’t even blink. He gives no outward reaction at all, just stares at Dominic with his gun aimed at the man’s heart. “Was he still there when you killed Carson? What did you do to him?”
Dominic’s eyes widen. “Carson’s dead?”
“Don’t act fucking stupid. And don’t think we’re stupid either.” For the first time since I told them Marcus had disappeared, emotion creeps into Ryland’s voice. He sounds pissed. Furious.
“I didn’t fucking kill Carson,” Dominic insists, glaring at him. “And I didn’t kill Marcus either, although I would’ve if I’d gotten the—”
He never gets to finish the sentence.
Like a bolt of fucking lightning, Theo moves. Dominic’s attention is focused on the obvious threat—the gun in Ryland’s hand—so he catches the movement too late.
He pivots, swinging the gun around to aim it at Theo, but Theo reaches him before he can fire. He pushes Dominic’s arms to one side as a shot rings out, and my whole body jerks at the sound as the bullet embeds itself in the side of the warehouse next to us. He keeps moving forward, using his bodyweight to shove Dominic backward. They stumble diagonally across the wide walkway between buildings before slamming into one.
Dominic lets out a deep grunt as his back thuds heavily against the wall. Theo grabs his hand and twists, and the gun falls from the other man’s grip, landing with a clatter on the ground. Ryland strides forward until he’s shoulder-to-shoulder with Theo, jamming his own gun under Dominic’s chin and pressing up so hard that I’m worried he’ll snap the guy’s head off.
Not that I’d try to stop him if he did.
Dominic’s lips curl back in something like a snarl. He’s breathing heavily, pressed so tightly against the wall it’s like he’s trying to disappear through it.
“The only reason you’re not dead already is because I want answers, fuckhead,” Ryland growls, digging the gun into the soft flesh beneath Dominic’s jawbone. “So start talking before I paint this fucking wall with your brains.”
I’m not even sure Dominic can talk. I’m pretty sure the pressure on his lower jaw is pinning his mouth shut. Maybe Ryland realizes it too, because he eases off a little, although his knuckles are white as he grips his weapon.
Dominic’s blue eyes dart between the two men in front of him, then roll downward like he’s trying to get a look at the ground. He’s probably wondering where his gun is, and whether he’s got a chance in hell of grabbing it if he fights back.
I’m pretty sure the answer to that is no, but I dart forward anyway, scooping the gun up before he can even think of reaching for it. The metal is cool in my hand, and I grip it tightly as I straighten. The world swims in my vision from the sudden movement, making me grit my teeth as I try to keep from passing out.
“Talk,” Ryland demands.
Dominic’s chest is rising and falling fast. There’s fear in his eyes, but also an analytical sort of cunning—as if, even this close to death, he’s trying to find some way to spin this to his advantage.
“I didn’t kill Carson,” he finally says. “Or Marcus.”
“Then who the fuck did?”
Ryland’s voice is a low growl, and he digs the barrel of the gun into Dominic’s chin again, making the other man choke and gag. But when the pain on Dominic’s face fades, a small smile replaces it. He lifts his eyebrows slightly, his body relaxing.
“Check the time,” he says quietly.
Ryland freezes, his whole body going rigid as if Dominic hit him with an electric shock. “Theo?”
The tall blond man digs into his pocket for his phone, glancing down at it quickly. His shoulders slump. “Two minutes after twelve.”
“Fuck!”
Ryland fists the front of Dominic’s shirt, practically lifting him off his feet as he shoves the guy harder against the wall, digging the barrel of his weapon
